Bloody Blades: Croup and Vandemar Drabbles
by daveypandas
Summary: Croup and Vandemar return to London... Takes place after the end of the book.
1. The Return of Croup and Vandemar

A/N: About late in the summer last year, I discovered a book by Neil Gaiman called Neverwhere. So you pretty much have to read the book to understand these drabbles. It's a pretty awesome book, though my favorite characters are the two cutthroats – Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar. I decided to write drabbles about them. They're a bit longer than the usual 100-word drabbles.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. So don't be hatin', now. All due disclaimers.

Spoiler Warning: This references to some spoilers in the very end of the book, just to warn you.

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**Bloody Blades: Croup and Vandemar Drabbles**

_By: animeartist1_

**The Return of Croup and Vandemar**

He arose in the darkness, stretching out his long, thick – yet bony – limbs as he tilted his head back and howled. A shorter, orange-haired man who resembled a fox followed, climbing out of the dust.

"Mr. Vandemar…" The orange haired man grinned, showing his pointy, yellow teeth. "Can you believe this?"

Vandemar, the first one to arise, gave a low grumble, "I believe I don't, Mr. Croup."

Mr. Croup spoke again, "I've realized something."

"And what is that?"

"We don't die, Mr. Vandemar. We simply don't die." He shook his head.

Mr. Vandemar grumbled in agreement as he stuffed his hands in his pocket, finally remembering that he had put a dead mouse in there before they came to Islington days before. He was getting hungry.

"I suggest we must get back to London. There are many more throats to cut and lots more blood to spill. I can feel it screaming our names," Croup said.

The two cutthroats made their way from the darkness of nowhere, determined to go back to London and continue with their bloody career.

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A/N: Feel free to review. 


	2. The Human Tree

A/N: It's a busy summer!

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**The Human Tree**

Mr. Vandemar calmly, yet proudly stepped away from his and Croup's now-finished project. Mr. Croup was knelt down beside the heap of gore, casually wiping the blood from his knife.

"I must say…this just may be our greatest work yet, Mr. Vandemar," Croup observed.

The other cutthroat grumbled in agreement, and then added, "Although it was quite time-consuming if you ask me."

"Yes, I believe it was." Mr. Croup grinned, exposing his sharp, slimy, yellow teeth. "But for a good reason."

Even Mr. Vandemar grinned. "Every single King in the world…"

They were standing in front of an enormous tree; not necessarily a tree, but it was a gigantic tree crafted out of severed human heads and limbs. The many rich, crooked kings hovered above, looking and swaying in agony.

"This little project is complete."

"On to the next one, I suppose?"

"Right you are."

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A/N: Feel free to review. 


	3. The Unexpected Guest

A/N: Time for the next drabble…

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**The Unexpected Guest**

A knock echoed through the shabby, abandoned Victorian hospital.

"Why, Mr. Vandemar, I believe we have company."

The other cutthroat froze. A live mouse was still dangling above his slimy, discolored tongue. "Any idea who, Mr. Croup?"

"That I do not know…Hopefully, it will be some ripe, human flesh to cut through."

Vandemar silently agreed before he dropped the innocent mouse and swallowed it whole. Not to mention the acid saliva.

"Lets go see who our visitor is, shall we, Mr. Vandemar?"

"Yes we shall."

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A/N: Feel free to review. 


	4. The Tailored Seams

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Again.

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**Tailored Seams**

"Why, Mr. Vandemar, you are much too considerate," Mr. Croup doted as he beamed and his tailored suit. He stroked the old-fashioned seams and grinned.

Mr. Vandemar coughed, politely muttered "Thanks", and continued to play with and anguish a poor lizard, which was darting frantically from fingertip to fingertip, its tail brushing the metal blood-crusted knuckle dusters lined along Vandemar's large, bony white fingers.

"Perhaps we shall move on to more business and gore?" Mr. Croup suggested.

"Perhaps."


	5. Snack

AN: I've always wanted to draw Croup and Vandemar…

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Underground London was dribbling with cold, gloomy raindrops. This was enough to keep most people indoors, as if anyone who dared venture outside would catch a chill that would never go away.

Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar never got chills.

They had plenty of time on their hands; it was a great opportunity to find any unlucky souls wandering the streets early that evening. As usual, Mr. Croup was in the lead followed by Mr. Vandemar. Trudging along, damp sludges of rain would occasionally glisten on the shoulders of Vandemar's suit.

The taller and larger cutthroat stopped abruptly; his nostrils flared. Croup didn't realize that his partner stopped until they were about four yards apart.

"What is it?" Croup asked, as he walked back.

"Something's here," Vandemar mumbled. He was facing toward an alleyway on their right.

The shorter cutthroat made his way into the alleyway, saying, "Come out, come out, wherever you are…" He paused to look around. Nothing. As he went deeper into the alleyway his voice became louder. "I don't see anything, Mr. Vandemar. Perhaps you're just hungry and smelt a rat–"

A trash can toppled over.

Behind the toppled trash can was a small girl, no older than five years.

Croup grinned. "Why on earth are you to sitting alone out in a cold, wet place like this, _little girl_?"

The girl didn't respond.

Mr. Vandemar's stomach growled.

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A/N: Feel free to review.


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